


Don't Sit Back Kick Back

by BlackEyedGirl



Category: The Middleman (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse, Awesome Ladies Ficathon, Bechdel Test Pass, Ficlet, Gen, POV Female Character, Possible Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-06
Updated: 2010-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-10 10:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackEyedGirl/pseuds/BlackEyedGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now rejoining your demon apocalypse, already in progress. They've got it under control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Sit Back Kick Back

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Awesome Ladies Ficathon](http://ineffort.livejournal.com/199061.html) for the prompt: _Some were spellbound, some were hellbound, some they fell down/But some got back up and fought back against the meltdown._

"Lacey," Wendy asks, "didn't you used to be a pacifist?"

Lacey swings a wicked scythe up over her shoulder. Blood and guts pour everywhere. "I am a pacifist," she says.

Wendy looks at her until Lacey blinks. Wendy thinks maybe she picked the wrong time to ask the question, but the expression is thoughtful rather than hurt.

"These are unusual circumstances," Lacey protests. "I think I get a pass for demon apocalypses."

Roxy yells, "Fire," and not in a 'grenade' kind of way, in a 'shooting fire from my mystical staff' kind of way. She snaps, "Could you two keep the cosy sleepover heart-to-heart until after we've done? Or never? Never works for me too."

Lacey says, "Aw, I like it that Dub-Dub worries about my principles. It's familiar. Homey. Sort of makes me feel like maybe the world _isn't_ ending."

Roxy rolls her eyes to the heavens (far far up above); that's familiar too, but Wendy refuses to call it homey. Roxy pats Lacey's shoulder and hands her the staff. "Point and click. Want them dead."

"I'm really not sure about… I have a scythe." Lacey waves it vaguely in demonstration, and takes off another few heads. For a woman who thinks that Xbox is too violent, she's getting pretty good at that.

"Fire's more efficient," Roxy says. "Look. They're all very bad demons who pollute the water supply and kill bunnies or monkeys or whatever the hell you were trying to save before the apocalypse started. Okay? You're doing fine."

Wendy frowns. That was almost supportive. "How come you like Lacey more than me? I'm not the one who tried to throw blood on your building. Or who stole your fur coats. I didn't _object_, precisely, but all I did was…"

Roxy gives Wendy a smirk with too many teeth. "Don't take it personally, darling. I like lots of people more than I like you. Now duck."

Wendy gets out of the way. Roxy is now wielding what may be an enchanted mace, diving deeper into the fray. Not for the first time, Wendy wonders just how long Roxy has been doing the reformed succubus thing. Although, she _has_ managed to find a mace that doesn't clash with her shoes, which is quite a trick. Wendy, in contrast, is sort of a mess. But the world hasn't ended yet. And Roxy with all her experience seems to think it's a fight they can win, and Lacey has adopted world-saving as her newest personal crusade. Sometimes you've gotta count your blessings.

Wendy focuses. "Everybody down!" There's not a lot of Middle-tech left (or at least none that she can get to right now) but her guns haven't left her side. She's not sure how long they'll keep working without taking them back to HQ, but that's not today's problem. If they don't fix the situation in front of them, nothing else will matter for very long. Wendy has got a lot better at compartmentalising these past few weeks. This is what she trained for. She pulls the trigger and the blast crackles through the hordes. "C'mon," she says. "We've got to move."

The others fall to either side of her, running for the next spot of cover. They're making pretty good time for a confrontational spoken word performance artist who learnt about the real supernatural a month ago, a mostly-reformed succubus fashion designer missing her chocolate fix, and a glorified temp turned sidekick with a watch that won't connect her calls. Another week or so and they should have made it right into the belly of the beast. Wendy smiles. Hell isn't going to know what hit them.


End file.
